


A Close Shave

by rosensilence



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Facial Shaving, Grand Marshal Hux, Hux Has No Chill, Hux has a dagger and he knows how to use it, M/M, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, there's a razor but you'll see more blood from a paper cut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-30 18:55:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13957875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosensilence/pseuds/rosensilence
Summary: It's three weeks after the destruction of Starkiller Base and the incident on Crait, and Grand Marshall Hux is finally beginning to feel like himself again.  An early morning grooming ritual with Hux's favored straight razor turns into something more when Supreme Leader Kylo Ren takes an interest.





	A Close Shave

**Author's Note:**

> This came from a conversation on Twitter.
> 
> There is a little blood in this, but it's literally just a couple of drops and only mentioned in one line.

Hux looked into the mirror in his fresher and was, for once, pleased with what he saw. The heavy bags under his eyes that had been permanent features since the destruction of Starkiller Base three weeks ago had finally disappeared, and his skin had finally shed itself of the sickly and sallow complexion that had plagued him for just as long. He was still pale of course—because Armitage Hux could never be anything but—but at least now it was a paleness of birth and an adulthood aboard Star Destroyers, and not the paleness of failure and rejection.

His eyes looked brighter too, he noticed. The green of his eyes was finally being highlighted by the red of his hair once more instead of the red of his bloodshot eyes and the deep bags beneath them. He finally felt like himself again.

Himself, but better, he thought as his gaze fell on the uniform that was hanging behind him, ready to be put on when he’d finished his early morning grooming routine. There was an extra star on that uniform that hadn’t been there when Starkiller Base was still functional. Maybe it was the galaxy’s perverse sense of humor that meant that Hux had to lose the star that was Starkiller Base in order to gain the star of Grand Marshal. 

_There’s only room for one star in your life, Armitage._

Hux shook his head of such thoughts but he couldn’t stop his mind from cataloguing the events of the last three weeks. It had been a hellish time that had started the moment a Stormtrooper had turned traitor, and had continued when Ren had allowed a scavenger girl from nowhere to best him not once, but twice.

Hux scowled as he thought of Kylo Ren. Of all of the disasters and headaches of the last three weeks, the biggest and most continuous had been that of Hux’s new Supreme Leader. Ren had taken the title Hux had coveted the most of all, he’d almost run the First Order into the ground within hours of taken said title, had attacked Hux twice, and was currently sleeping in Hux’s bed.

Ren had been as responsible as any for Hux’s sleepless nights and poor physical condition, but Hux had to admit that Ren was largely responsible for Hux’s recovery, too. He had expected that the debacle on Crait would send Ren into a downward spiral of destruction and fury that he wasn’t sure even the Finalizer would be able to contain, but it had never materialized. Ren was now calmer and more balanced than Hux had ever known the force user to be.

Hux had wondered if it was the absence of Snoke that had caused Ren’s calmness, as he’d long since suspected that Snoke’s method of training Ren was probably as brutal as Snoke’s method of keeping Hux in line. He’d also wondered if it had been the apparent death of Skywalker that had soothed Ren’s soul.

Then, Hux had realized that he didn’t care what had caused it, he’d just take any calmness he could get.

Although Hux welcomed and reveled in the calmness that had descended over Ren and by extension the First Order, he wasn’t naive enough to think it would last. Even now, with Ren sleeping contently in his bed, Hux still had his favorite dagger hidden in the sleeve of his uniform. Ren was an animal that was a slave to his emotions and all too human failings, and Hux was not going to fool himself into thinking that three weeks of conquering the galaxy and whispered words in the dark of night was enough to tame him.

For Hux, his current situation was very similar to those moments before jumping to hyper speed. Living with a calm Ren was just like waiting for the jump to be made, and for everything to go hurtling through space at incomprehensible speeds while hoping you won’t smash into a planet at the end of it all.

Hux pushed thoughts of Ren away and opened the drawer in the counter before him. The drawer was neatly organized, and it took only a second for him to find the straight razor that he was looking for. He had bought the razor back on Arkanis, shortly after graduating from the academy. The steel of the blade had been forged in a factory there, and it was one of the few trinkets from home that Hux possessed. Hux had no love for his home planet, but he preferred the close shave of a sharpened blade to the dull efficiency of the sonic shavers that the First Order provided.

Hux soaped up his face and had just completed the first swipe of his razor when the door to his fresher opened. 

Sleep softened Ren in a way that Hux hadn’t thought possible for Ren to be softened, and it was so easy for Hux to forget that he was sharing a bed with possibly the most dangerous man in the galaxy when those sleepy brown eyes were struggling to focus on him. Ren looked impossibly young and innocent in the early hours of the morning, and it was often difficult to reconcile the image of the sleep riddled, bed mussed haired Ren with the black clad specter that had effortlessly carved up battlefields with his flaming red sword.

But it was the same man. Hux had to ensure that he never forgot that.

Ren gestured to the razor in Hux’s hand. “What’s that?” His usually deep voice was rendered deeper still due to the last lingering touches of sleep, and Hux suppressed the shiver that ran down his spine.

“It’s a straight razor. Don’t tell me you’ve never seen one before?”

Ren didn’t answer, and merely shrugged his shoulders. Sometimes Hux forgot how different their childhoods must have been. Hux, with his Imperial military life on a rainy planet and a father that hated him, and then there was Ren, born into the heart of the New Republic to a Princess and with the force infused Skywalker blood in his veins.

But somehow, despite those vast differences, they’d ended up together in the same small fresher on the same large star destroyer.

Hux couldn’t help but be hyper aware that Ren was lurking behind him, but he returned to his task. He could see Ren reflected in the mirror before him, but he ignored Ren and instead concentrated on the press of the razor against his skin and the satisfying feel of the sharpened edge gliding across his cheek.

“It looks very smooth,” Ren said, his voice now devoid of sleep. His eyes were sharper now too, Hux noticed.

“It is. You should try it.”

Ren’s lips quirked into a sly smile that put Hux on edge. “I’d rather shave you. Will you let me?”

Hux wasn’t sure if that was a genuine question from the man sharing Hux’s bed every night or a disguised order from Hux’s Supreme Leader. It was often difficult to tell where the line between Kylo Ren the man, and Kylo Ren the force of unbridled power and destruction was, and often Hux thought that Ren himself didn’t know either. Ren had always had this uncanny ability to subvert Hux’s expectations of him and Hux became suddenly aware of how slim the tightrope he was walking had yet again become.

If he refused Ren’s politely worded request, would Ren merely shrug those broad shoulders and find something else to play with? Or would the lightsaber that Hux knew lay only a few feet away suddenly appear in Ren’s hand, ready to mow him down?

Hux decided it was better to play along. For now, at least. “Of course, Ren,” Hux said with a disingenuous smile.

He held out the razor to Ren—handle first of course—and watched as Ren took it from his hands and held it up to the light, as if he was inspecting the blade to see if it was sharp enough to slit Hux’s throat. It was, Hux knew, and he was sure that Ren would realize that too.

Instead of worrying about the dangerous blade he’d just handed off to a dangerous man, Hux pulled out the stool that was stowed away beneath the counter and sat down. Without even realizing Hux fell into a perfect military posture, with his back ramrod straight, legs evenly spaced and palms resting on his knees. 

Hux tried not to flinch when Ren slowly paced around him, the razor in his hand glistening underneath the artificial lighting of the fresher. “It’s easiest if you stand behind me while I lean my head back,” Hux helpfully explained.

Ren paused behind Hux, placing two fingers underneath Hux’s chin as he slowly tilted Hux’s head back. Ren was so close that Hux could feel his gel-free hair brush against Ren’s bare stomach. He leaned back a little further and his eyes locked with Ren’s. There was a sparkle in those brown eyes that Hux had learned from experience not to trust. “Like this?” Ren asked.

Hux swallowed. “That’s right.”

Ren fell silent and seemed to be thinking about something. Hux wondered—not for the first time since his association with Ren had moved from professional to something more—exactly when he’d seemed to have developed a death wish. Hux had always prided himself on his ability to not only survive, but to thrive in any situation thrown at him, but he was starting to doubt his ability to survive Kylo Ren. Ren could go from looking at Hux like he’d hung the very stars in the sky, to looking at Hux like he was dirt on Ren’s New Republic shoes within the blink of an eye. 

Right now, Ren’s expression was impossible to read, and that unnerved Hux the most. Ren’s soft looks required gentle words and touches, and Ren’s disdainful looks needed false platitudes mixed in with a firm hand. Hux could, and had, dealt with both with only minimal bruising for his efforts. But an unreadable Ren with a sharp blade in his hand was a different matter.

Finally, Ren spoke. “I have a better idea.”

Ren let go of Hux’s chin and swiftly moved to Hux’s front before unceremoniously brushing Hux’s hands away from his knees and sitting on Hux’s lap. Ren’s long, thick legs came to rest around Hux’s slim hips and Hux could feel the heat of the man through the thin training pants Ren wore, and the regulation First Order uniform pants that Hux wore in his role as Grand Marshal. After a few moments of awkwardly holding his hands in the air, Hux softly placed them on Ren’s hips, his thumbs coming to rest in the crease between thigh and hip.

When standing the height difference between them was negligible, but when seated with Ren in his lap, his chest bare and glistening with a light sheen of bed sweat, Hux was acutely aware of the height and size Ren had on him. He knew that he couldn’t buck Ren off his lap even if he tried, and his heart began to beat faster as he realized that Ren had him trapped and was bringing a sharp blade to his throat.

“Any tips?” Ren asked, amusement coloring the edges of his voice. Hux had no doubt that Ren could sense Hux’s nervousness and was enjoying it.

“Go slow, and shave in the direction of the hair growth,” Hux replied. He doubted Ren would listen, but felt that he had to try. “You don’t need much pressure.”

Ren seemed to contemplate what Hux had said. “What angle is best?”

Hux paused. The playfulness had disappeared from Ren’s voice and eyes. “About 30 degrees.” Hux removed his right hand from Ren’s thigh and softly took the wrist that held the razor in his hand. “May I?”

Ren nodded in agreement and Hux helped to direct Ren’s hand until the blade was resting softly against Hux’s right cheek. “Like this,” Hux said softly.

It felt like his heart stopped beating when Ren carefully moved the blade down his cheek in a way that was so slow and gentle that it seemed alien in Ren’s big hands. Ren quickly moved onto the next patch of skin and showed the same amount of care. The worst of the tension Hux felt began to float away with the completion of every stroke, and he even dared to look at Ren’s face. It was a mask of concentration, as Ren’s eyes were glued to the movement of the blade and Ren was lightly chewing on his own bottom lip.

“Other side,” Ren said softly as he titled Hux’s face to get better access to the left side.

Hux could feel himself becoming hard as Ren continued to work. The intimacy of the situation, of Ren’s hot weight spread across his lap, Ren’s surprisingly nimble fingers caressing his face and the occasional feel of Ren’s hot breath against his eyelashes was intoxicating to Hux. Hux would have thought that the danger inherent in Ren holding a sharp blade to his throat would have dampened his arousal, but Hux suspected that it was only adding to it.

He waited for a pause in Ren’s movements to move his hands from Ren’s hips around to his ass, and although Ren rose an eyebrow at Hux’s movement, he made no comment. Having Ren’s undivided attention on you was a heady feeling, Hux knew, and it would never cease to affect him. Ren had all of the power, knowledge and strength in the galaxy at his fingertips thanks to his ability with the force, yet at that moment, Ren’s entire galaxy was Hux.

Ren quickly finished shaving Hux and grabbed a towel to wipe off the excess soap. When Ren was finished, he ran his fingertips over Hux’s cheek. The gesture was soft and almost filled with an affection that Hux knew neither man was truly capable of feeling. “Satisfied?” Ren asked.

Hux ran his own fingers over his face. He had to admit, Ren had done a good job. His relief at Ren’s talented shave was nothing compared to the relief he felt at still having his throat intact, however. “Yes, thank you.”

Ren stood up and Hux was glad to see that he wasn’t the only one that was hard. “I can kill you in a million ways,” Ren said. “I wouldn’t need to chose something as messy as slitting your throat and watching you bleed out.”

The tone of mockery in Ren’s voice as he spoke was not lost on Hux, nor was it unexpected. Ren had always loved to throw what he considered to be Hux’s failings back into his Grand Marshal’s face, and Hux was certain that Ren had taken great joy in playing with Hux’s fears as he’d shaved him. Dealing with Ren was infuriating, as he was equal parts cruel and equal parts comforting, and Hux never quite knew which Ren he was going to get.

Ren held out the razor to Hux, and Hux quickly took it and put it away in the counter, making a mental note to clean it thoroughly later. “No, slitting throats isn’t quite your style is it, Supreme Leader?”

Hux reached behind Ren to take the tunic that hung behind him. Ren moved out of the way, but didn’t leave and Hux hadn’t expected him to. Ren was always getting under Hux’s feet when he got ready in the morning, as if he wanted to remind Hux who had given him his position as Grand Marshal, and who it was that he now served. 

As if Hux could ever forget either.

But, as much as Ren liked to stamp his authority over Hux and keep the redhead on his toes, Hux liked to return the favor sometimes. And as he saw Ren in his fresher, still looking deliciously disheveled from another night of the restless sleep that had always plagued Ren, Hux had an idea.

“You need a shave too, Ren,” Hux said neutrally. “Will you let me shave you?”

For a moment so brief that even Hux—who had trained himself to recognize these things—nearly missed it, Ren looked slightly worried. Ren’s face was soon a blank slate of indifference again, and Hux had always found Ren’s indifference to be even more telling than his emotions sometimes. When Ren used indifference with Hux in private, Hux knew that he had Ren on the back foot. Ren felt everything so strongly—and Hux knew what buttons to press—so indifference was a mask for an emotion Ren didn’t want to show.

“If you want,” Ren shrugged before sitting down where Hux had sat before.

Hux lathered up his shaving brush with some foam and tilted Ren’s head back. He ran the fingers of his left hand across Ren’s forehead to brush away the stray hairs that clung to his face, and used his right to brush the foam across the stubble that covered Ren’s cheeks and chin. Ren was watching him intensely, his large brown eyes cataloguing every movement Hux made and Hux was amused to see the same amount of guarded distrust in those eyes as Hux usually had in his own when he looked at Ren.

“All ready,” Hux whispered when he was finished with the soap. He knew he should have warmed Ren’s skin first to facilitate a smoother and closer shave, but his shaving foam contained similar properties and he couldn’t wait.

Hux sat on Ren’s lap, much as Ren had done to him. Ren’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “Don’t you need your razor? Shall I use the force and get it from the drawer for you?”

Hux shook his head. “It needs a good clean, and I don’t trust the force to do that,” _or you_ , Hux didn’t say. Ren merely frowned. “Besides, you can use any blade to shave with if it’s sharp enough.”

Ren’s wide eyed confusion was amusing, Hux thought, and he tried to commit the image of Ren’s confusion to his memory. Hux wasn’t sure if Ren viewed the last three weeks of calmness with the same weary caution that Hux did, and he wasn’t sure if Ren assumed that Hux could be declawed and won over by a promotion and a few good fucks, but Hux was about to remind Ren exactly how dangerous he could be.

Hux stretched out his right arm and flicked his wrist in a practiced and particular movement. Ren’s surprised gasp when a small dagger with a monomolecular blade slid into Hux’s hand was the most beautiful sound Hux had heard since the laser on Starkiller Base had fired.

“Don’t worry,” Hux said with a smile, “I know how to use this. I’ll give you the sharpest shave in the galaxy.”

Ren seemed to gain his equilibrium back quickly, but Hux knew him well enough to see that Ren was still cautious of the blade. He hadn’t taken his eyes from it since Hux had revealed its existence. “Only the best for your Supreme Leader, right Grand Marshal?”

“Of course,” Hux replied. “Now hold still.”

Ren didn’t flinch when the blade touched his skin. He was as still and solid as a statue, and Hux couldn’t help but allow his mind to wander to the last time he had sat in Ren’s lap like this. It had been only the night before, as Hux had placed his hands on Ren’s broad shoulders and worked himself on Ren’s cock. Ren hadn’t been still and calm then, no, Ren’s hands had been everywhere as his mouth had uttered filth against Hux’s neck. 

The images running through Hux’s mind weren’t helping his erection, and he couldn’t help but pause in shaving Ren in order to roughly shove his tongue into Ren’s mouth. Ren was taken by surprise but quickly reciprocated the gesture, his strong hands grabbing the material of Hux’s tunic and pulling it out of position. Ren kissed the way he did everything in life - with a raw power that he didn’t quite know how to control.

But occasionally, Hux could control that power. All it took was a tug to Ren’s hair to have the man mewling in pleasure, and Hux wasn’t beyond using such dirty tricks to get Ren to follow his lead. 

Hux pulled away from Ren’s addictive mouth with one last bite of Ren’s eternally fuckable lips and went back to his task. He was nearly finished, and again Hux was struck by how young Ren could look when his face wasn’t set into a scowl. Hux wasn’t much older than Ren, and he absentmindedly wondered if his own youth played out across his face when he wasn’t paying attention.

It was on the last stroke of his blade when Hux purposely applied a little too much pressure and nicked Ren’s skin. It wasn’t enough to cause any permanent damage, and was certainly nothing that would be noticed next to the scar that would always remain on Ren’s face, but a few drops of blood quickly rushed to the surface of Ren’s skin.

“Ow,” Ren said involuntarily. “I thought you know how to use that dagger?”

“I do,” Hux replied firmly. He swiped away the couple of drops of blood with his left thumb and locked eyes with Ren as he brought his thumb to his mouth and licked it away.

Ren’s back stiffened and his expression darkened, as he finally seemed to realize the game Hux was playing. Hux recognized that change, from impassive to dark. It was usually followed by someone dying. Hux wasted no time in pressing his dagger against Ren’s throat, just below his Adam’s apple.

“I don’t have a million ways to kill a man at my disposal,” Hux said, “so I’m not above slitting throats and watching people bleed out.”

“It is more your style than mine,” Ren agreed. Ren seemed cautious, but not overly concerned by the blade at his throat. Hux had to grudgingly respect that.

They stayed like that for a few moments, with Hux’s blade pressed against Ren’s throat, threatening to tear the skin to pieces but not quite making good on that threat. Ren was still again, his eyes boring holes into Hux’s as the rest of his body remained stock-still and calm. The only betrayer of what Ren was feeling was the occasional twitch underneath his left eye. 

They were breathing in tandem, Hux noticed, their bodies naturally falling into a matching rhythm. And that was how it always was, wasn’t it? Ultimately, they did match. Just two men thrown into positions of power that were beyond what their youth should have allowed them to achieve, both with lingering family issues, and both with the crippling inability to act in any way other than the antagonistic and selfish ways they exhibited towards everyone around them.

Maybe Ren had known genuine and unconditional love as a New Republic child, but now, all that either of them knew was violence, cruelty and power.

Hux pulled the dagger away and made a show of sliding it back into his uniform. He stood up, readjusted his uniform and pointedly ignored his still throbbing erection. “A man should always carry a weapon with them. You never know when you may be required to shave a Supreme Leader.”

Ren seemed to take the words for the warning they were, but at times it was increasingly difficult to figure out what Ren thought of anything. “I would expect nothing less from my Grand Marshal.”

Hux moved past the now standing Ren and took his jar of pomade from the shelf it proudly sat on. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I must finish getting ready for my shift.”

Hux turned his back on Ren with a confidence he didn’t quite feel. It had been a gamble to threaten Ren in that manner, but Hux needed the man to know that he wasn’t going to be fooled by this artificial calm that they had fallen into. Hux didn’t survive the academy and make the rank of General, later Grand Marshal, without forever being aware of every potential danger that could befall him. 

Ren needed to know that he wouldn’t catch Grand Marshal Hux napping.

But there was something that was bothering Hux. He knew that Ren also hadn’t managed to survive as long as he had without being equally aware of every oncoming threat. He had a suspicion that Ren had only regained consciousness in the throne room three weeks ago because he had sensed Hux moving for his blaster, and he had heard the story of Skywalker trying to murder Ren in his sleep from Ren’s own lips.

“Ren,” Hux asked, his eyes locking with Ren’s in the mirror. “Could you have stopped me if I’d have tried to slit your throat? Would the force have warned you quickly enough?”

Ren smiled. “I wonder…” He left without answering further.

By the time Hux had finished setting his hair for the day, there was no trace of Ren to be found in his quarters. Hux put on his great coat, also now adorned with an extra star, and took solace in its weight and warmth. The jump to hyper speed was coming soon, he knew, and yet again he was left wondering if he would survive it.

**Author's Note:**

> Come and say hello at my [Twitter](http://www.twitter.com/rosensilence) or [Tumblr](http://rosensilence.tumblr.com/)!


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